


Blue Eyes

by HugsNotDrugs



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged-Up Morty Smith, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love, M/M, No Smut, and by old as fuck i mean 25 and 80, bc he's emotionally underdeveloped, mais pourquoi, rick has angsty fits, they're both old as fuck now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 07:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HugsNotDrugs/pseuds/HugsNotDrugs
Summary: He was flourishing.





	Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> hey yall i swear i haven't given up on my... christ that's two WIPs now, disgusting. but anyway i had this idea in the middle of a starker fic for my friend, take some cryptic word vomit.

“Just get out!” Rick’s voice like a wolf’s howl, breaking in jarring places, echoing its way into my head. 

His breath blew in my face, laid heavy with the odor of drink, the heart-wrenching smell nearly forgotten. He had done so well, always putting down his flask with a slight frown before turning to me with a smile on his face, teeth yellowed permanently from his previous habits, but they were ones he was determined to break out of, and say: “Morty, let’s go on an adventure.” “Morty, come help me with the quantum generator.” “Morty, let’s raid Blitz N’ Chips.”

Rick lost his stutter when he was sober, the clouds of his genius mind fanned away, and though he was no orator, his speeches flowed with clarity and passion, fresh-eyed from their uncovering and eager to enlighten the world. His posture straightened and his skin glowed brighter as he finally got enough sleep for the first time in his life, mumbling sweet promises into my bare neck at random intervals, curling around me as though he was much younger, and his contented raspy snores lulled me to sleep, signs that he was sleeping soundly, untouched by the evils he had suffered his whole life, only I and the quiet night. 

The past few months, he flourished.

That man now slammed a bony hand on the door frame, hard. The impact shook our entire flat and I stumbled away, jarred. His eyes gleamed something angry and painful before he slammed the door an inch from my nose. I stood outside, my body stunned and my heart beating rapidly as my eyes roamed the grooves of the unyielding barrier between us.

For the next week, Rick didn’t come out of his room, growling at me like a wounded animal whenever I tried to bring him food, escalating from the freshest pack of chocolate waffles to a full-course dinner that I had made with only a little assistance from Youtube.

“I programmed a- a machine for that so y-you didn’t have to. What an idiot.” He would mutter, before pushing the entire tray into the trash can. “Not hungry.” He grumbled nearly inaudibly, running one hand through his frizzy scalp before throwing a dirty look at me, a silent warning for me to get the fuck out that I did not heed. 

I could not tear myself away from the sight before me. Empty glass bottles littered the side of his fluorescent-lit desk, and I felt my vision blur with anger as the labels fell out of focus. I took in the absolute wreckage his room had become in the short week of his self-imposed isolation and felt panic well up and twist tight my chest.

“Rick, I- I really think-”

“Shut up, Morty.” His tone was dismissive, like every other thing he had said to me, the one who was there for him all this time, throwing away a normal life to… what? Be his… sidekick? A stepping stool? A little puppy who he could shit on whenever he wanted?

“What is _wrong_ with you? Why are you being like this?” I finally screamed at him, temper broken.

“You know full well that all I want is for _you_ to be happy, and healthy, and safe, and you won’t even acknowledge me all of a sudden.” I could feel heat rising in my face and tried hard not to cry.

I softened my voice, letting some of my hurt show through for bonus persuasion points. “It’s so sudden, Rick. I just want to know what’s going on with you.”

“Y-y-you’re g-getting in the way of my work. Get out.” He was beginning to sound more and more like a sulky teenager, and I the frustrated parent, wit rubbed ‘til it was frayed.

I resisted the urge to stamp my foot (now being nearly 6 foot albeit still scrawny, it was not a good idea to apply any sudden force to the rickety apartment floor), instead snorting indignantly and walking briskly out of the room, not resisting a little slam of the door of my own. 

The next time I caught sight of Rick, I had come home early from work due to a massive rainstorm. If I thought hard enough, I could remember the app Rick had designed for me that used a satellite that he built, more accurate and advanced than anything on the market, flashing me a notification for poor weather but being the numb skull that I was, had completely overlooked it and took off in a frenzy after oversleeping that morning, hastily dressed and without bringing an umbrella, on top of all things.

I had forgotten to say goodbye.

When I came home, I took off my shoes, so drenched that water squelched solidly out of them onto our doormat. No matter, I’d clean it later. I shed all my gear and cracked all my bones, releasing a sigh of enjoyment. Exhausted from the frantic day and glad to finally have a break- I had been pulling longer and longer shifts to get out of that horribly quiet house-, I stepped heavily into our bedroom that he had deserted only to find it occupied.

Rick sat in the middle of our well-worn bed, the sheets that I had slept in held to his nose, his body wracked with strangled sobs as he caressed the fabric like a lover. He was stripped to nothing but his boxers. I watched him rock back and forth gently, whispering unclear words that sounded terribly like my name. My heart sank immediately, my body chained to the floor by claws of icy fear.

“Rick?” I asked tentatively, softly into the air. His entire body stiffened and I saw him coil like an animal about to spring, immediately scurrying up our bed, making almost a humorous attempt to hide himself in the sheets and failing horrifically. The sheets ended up loosely draped around one shoulder, the rest cascading, leaving him exposed.

I gently rocked the mattress, putting my weight into my knees as I approached him slowly with as kind and calm a face I could muster. He looked like a wild man, hair sticking up every which way, more so than usual as he plastered himself against the headboard and wall, shying away from me. The image reminded me of the days right after the Galactic Revolution, when he’d look a breath away from dropping dead yet miles from quelling that fire of his, electric eyes, hair, body. 

I reached my hands out to touch his face. He let me, shifting towards me slightly. I placed both hands on opposite sides of his sharp face, brushing away a tear streak with my thumb. He refused to make eye contact with me, the sunken orbs swiveling away from me still. In my peripheral, I could see his lean chest raising and falling slightly, as if he was trying to hide any sign of movement from me. 

I ran my hands down his neck, feeling the pulse there before moving to his shoulders. I gave a comforting squeeze, letting a small smile slip onto my face before I pulled him forward onto me, hugging him tight and burying my face in the crook of his neck, scent of the dry skin there unwelcome but not unfamiliar, of booze and despair, but it turned out that all he needed was a little help. This would be the same too.

He began crying earnestly into me, and I physically felt the dam within him break.

“Let it all out, love.” I pet his soft fragile hair, letting him scrabble at my back until he calmed down. He drew back, wiping snot from his face, and kissed me fiercely, holding me this time like his greatest treasure, his love greatest of this universe and the next seventy over, and I felt all my harbored anger melt away. Of course, of course he needed me here, him barely hanging on. I loved him and he loved me and I would always, always be here. I whispered the last part out loud to him, looking earnestly at his face to tell him I meant it.

“Morty. I’m going to die in a defined number of days.” His pale blue eyes, color nearly all molted away, stood at the edge of ocean waves, tumultuous and frightened. 

“Well, we all are, aren’t we?” I smiled sadly at him, put a hand to his, which was cupping my cheek, already knowing what was coming. Rick never taught me to believe such silly things as fate.

“Don’t be silly. What I mean is, my body clock will run out in- is it Wednesday today? two days, I calculated it, and I don’t want- I don’t want to be gone at the prime of your life with you thinking that you’d really have rathered you liked someone normal, someone your age, or something-”

“It wasn’t… really… for you that I distanced myself. I was being selfish, Morty. I didn’t want to face the aftermath of inserting myself into the life of someone like you. But I-I-I’ve got it now, I’ll take whatever you want to throw at me, so long you’ll be happy when I’m gone.” He clawed his hair out of his face, eyes reddened and face crumpling. His nose retreated into the crook of his arm, his bony knees drawn up to his chest.

I reached forward, sweeping some loose hairs upward. “Rick… Rick… you have everything wrong. How could I _possibly_ do that to you, my dearest friend, my partner in crime, in life? I love you a-a-and, I don’t know how we’ll get through these next few days yet, but we will, okay?”

I never got a response.

We slept together again for the nights after that, though I’m not quite sure how much sleep he got.

I told him I loved him, and that I always would, words passed over in the comforting darkness, darkness we knew well because we knew each other well. We could see each others’ eyes still, moonlit.

That was the last I ever saw of those blue eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks dears~ drop a kudos/comment/bookmark or something if you liked it.


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